Please
by CultureShockInBerlin
Summary: "Vos, I need you." The sinking feeling is back, making Kaon desperate and reckless. He shakes and shimmies, feeling sparks shiver up his coils. "Please."


"No, not now Vos," Kaon ushers as he fends off wandering digits, albeit poorly. "There's still work to be done."

"Take a break." Vos replies, easily batting away Kaon's defenses to secure his hold around the other's middle, fingers dipping into hip seems. "I know you're due for one."

Kaon's resistance is feeble at best. Vos's words were true, and it was just so hard to deny pleasure when it was radiating through your frame from wicked servos. Perhaps, if he were being honest with himself, he would even admit to the burning insecurity that had been gnawing at his core all day that demanded they indulge. Kaon was prone to inclinations, likely stemming from his ability to read the charge of the air better than most, but the nagging sensation had been more akin to paranoia, a feeling Kaon liked to think he was higher than. He wouldn't even dare to _think_ of calling it worry.

"Alright," he relents, signing himself off for his break before pushing away from the communication system to spin around, breaking Vos's hold to wrap his arms around the taller's neck, bringing him down for a kiss. Glossa entwine, seeking the comfort of each other as they dance in oral cavities. With the grace of practice, Vos grips a hand beneath Kaon's aft and lifts, prompting the red mech to wrap his legs around the purple one's waist, grinding their pelvises together. Both of their frames shake with extra charge, and as their kiss breaks, Kaon gnaws Vos's lower lip plating, earning a low groan before finally letting go.

"My quarters," he demands, knowing it was closer than Vos's. Even though the other possessed a berth better to accommodate them, neither had the patience for the extra 50 feet of footwork, and in swift motion Vos carries their communication's expert down the hall, inputting the access code. Not a word is spoken as Vos deposits Kaon onto his own berth, following suit quickly after to entrap the smaller frame with his own. Vos was hardly one for conversation once he had consent, something that had always nagged at Kaon, but when he worked those magic fingers or smiled at him with such warm optics it was hard to remember what he was ever concerned over.

Now, though, the silence was welcome as he felt Vos's servos wander south, tugging at the wiring of his hips and knees, rolling the cables between his digits before pinching and rolling again. Kaon had to bring one of his hands to his mouth to bite at, holding back the moans that wanted to escape him as Vos's finger work lights a fire deep in his belly. Teeth ravish his neck, working sensitive cabling in an unpredictable pattern, clenching only to lick a moment later. More heat builds, and Kaon couldn't help but press his pelvis up into the other's, scraping their cod pieces together, putting pressure on sensitive equipment underneath.

"Vos, I need you." He huskily growls against Vos's audio, relinquishing whatever hold he pretends to have on his self-control, securing his hands to Vos's back and tugging him further against his frame. One leg wraps against the back of Vos's knee, demanding the other start pressing back. "Don't play these games today."

The sinking feeling is back, making Kaon desperate and reckless. He shakes and shimmies, feeling sparks shiver up his coils.

"Please."

Vos draws back from his trance, startled not by the desperation but by the pleasantry. Kaon wasn't known for using manners to get what he wanted, let alone during interface, but Vos, to no one else's knowledge, didn't care for the emotional hookups of his berth partners beyond their consent. This was his time to remember someone from his past, someone special, someone so dear, and someone now, and forever will be, so dead. But Kaon has thrown a fork in the toaster, and his reverie is gone.

 _"Please."_ The electric chair begs again, hooking his second leg around Vos's lower back. It's a long, agonizing moment before Vos finally responds, grinding his cod piece against the smaller one, hearing it unlock as heat and moisture cling to his pelvis as he grinds again.

"Yes."

With the sound of folding armor, Vos's spike springs forward and rubs against Kaon's folds before plunging into his depths, igniting his heat into an inferno, roiling throughout his frame. Fire so hot it burns cold spreads throughout his legs, and he clings with every piece of scrap metal to the other.

Kaon pulls back into a heated kiss, desperate and wanting, rocking his pelvis to the tune of Vos's humps, feeling that icy heat spread and he never wants it to end. More, his frame demands, more, hold me, fill me, never leave me, and he claws at the other's back, almost there –

The world erupts into a super nova as they kiss like it's the last time.

It was.


End file.
